Heartfelt Sickness
by Lemony Prescott
Summary: John catches a fever from a serial killer while on a case. How will Sherlock make him feel better? *Omega Verse* •Part 2 of The Bridges of Sparks Series*


The case had been a blast, to be honest. Sherlock had praised John when he caught the serial murder with many kisses and cuddles, and John had never been happier. The only bad thing about the case was the fact that the serial killer kept on sneezing on him and breathing on him.

So yeah, one thing led to another, and that's exactly how John ended up here –

"I brought you soup, John," Sherlock said, closing the door quietly. It still sounded like thunder in John's aching head.

"Uhf," he answered eloquently, pulling the blanket over his head miserably. He didn't want soup, he wanted...something. To feel better. Something to keep him warm. He ached all over, he was exhausted and unable to get to sleep, and bored out of his mind. Being sick _sucked._

"You don't want it? I guess I'll leave it here, then," Sherlock sighed, sounding upset. "I just wish I could do _something_ to make you feel better."

There was a pause, and John waited for Sherlock to leave. He didn't. Instead, he sat down on the side of the bed.

"I just don't know, you don't want to eat, you've taken medicine, what can I..." Sherlock trailed off and made a considering noise. "Actually..."

He still didn't leave. He _pulled the covers off_ of John instead.

Squawking and blinded by the sudden light, John bolted upright, reaching for the blankets, but he got dizzy and had to lay back down. God, he was so pathetic! He couldn't even sit up! "Gimme the blanket back."

"Nope," Sherlock said so cheerfully John seriously considered punching him. "I know how I can make you better."

"Sherlock!" The omega squeaked, scrambling into a little ball as his alpha lay on top of him, winding his strong arms around his mate's frame.

"Apparently, maintaining intimate contact with your mate will speed the process." He murmured.

John shook his head against Sherlock's chest, "Sherlock, that's not tr –"

"Shut up."

Sherlock did as much with his lips against John's, his warm body pressing John's into the mattress, before flipping them over so they could spoon.

"Is this better?" Sherlock asked, his chest pressed against John's warm – too warm – back, quirking an eyebrow as John shivered against him.

"John, we need to get your fever down," he murmured in his mate's ear, his lips brushing against John's blond hair. John gave the alpha a pained moan in response, shivering once more against Sherlock's muscled chest.

Sherlock sighed and got up, marching to the kitchen to grab the medicine box. Angrily, he read the side and growled. The box claimed that the medicine would work its magic within three hours, but it's been six hours since John's taken his last dose. And if that didn't make him angry, the fact that his mate's fever had seemed to have gotten worse did.

Sherlock let out an angry shout, throwing the misleading medicine box out of the open window, his mind pounding harshly at the pain of his omega. He padded to their room, climbing in the bed before dragging John down onto his chest, drawing the covers off the omega again.

"John, adding more heat to the fever alone will make you feel even worse – Just, let me take care of you, just this once," Sherlock murmured, kissing John's sweaty brow. John sighed, and shivered at the cool air as the warm cover was thrown off. He cuddled closer to his mate and buried his nose in Sherlock's neck, sighing as he inhaled Sherlock's masculine scent. Sherlock shifted against him and detached himself again from his omega, ignoring his mate's dissatisfied whine.

"John, body heat is just as bad as having a cover over you; I don't want to cause you any unnecessary pain," he said, obviously frustrated with this whole situation. He hated being so useless to help his mate, he'd rather claw his eyes out with his own fingers than watch John suffer.

"Sherlock, please," his omega whined, cuddling closer to Sherlock's side of the bed. Sherlock couldn't help but smirk at the fact that his mate needed him – Him – of all people.

At the beginning of their relationship, they had taken things very slow. They'd leave each other lingering touches, warm smiles, and much to his surprise, cuddles in public. Sherlock knew about how John felt about being with a male alpha in public – It was almost unheard of in the army these days, idiotic people and their closed mind-ness.

Yet John had sacrificed that, along with many other important things to be with him, to be mated to one Sherlock Holmes. But what has Sherlock given him? A fever and clinginess. Sherlock was still very insecure – He was hurt by an omega named Victor who had cheated on him, and god – Sherlock would never wish such pain on another wolf.

"Sherlooock," he moaned, pawing for his mate. Sherlock smiled fondly, feeling the soft feeling he's cataloged as "Love" grow deeper into his chest.

"Fine."

Sherlock jumped on the bed and cuddle his mate, his inner wolf roaring in dominance as his omega cuddled closer to him, clinging on to his lanky frame.

"Thank you," John murmured, rubbing his cheek against Sherlock's collarbone, catching the alpha scent he craved.

He smiled, before grimacing.

"John?" Sherlock asked, sitting up in concern.

The next thing that Sherlock registered was that his face was covered in John's spit and – Well.

"Oops," John squeaked, giggling slightly. "Sorry about that."

"Next time you sneeze, please warn me." Sherlock whined, wiping the slimy substance with a tissue.

John simply giggled, already feeling better.

"…You never blessed me, you ass-hat!"

'_Yeah_,' Sherlock thought, '_John was defiantly feeling better.'_

**Authors Note – **Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed! I'm a sucker for angst and fluff, so since I wrote fluff, I guess you can guess what'll come next! ;) Thank you again, and if you left me some feedback, I'll give you a cherry lollipop! 3


End file.
